


Greeny Blue Eyes

by PurpleD54



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Silly, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleD54/pseuds/PurpleD54
Summary: Barton is just trying to stay awake.





	Greeny Blue Eyes

"Agent Barton, you may NOT sing on the comm. Keep this channel clear."

"But sir," Clint whined, "I have this earworm and it's not letting me go. It's helping me stay awake so I don't fall out of this tree and helping me stretch out so I don't get cramped. Do you know how long I've been up in this nest?"

"Thirty four hours and twenty seven minutes. We're all tired Barton. You have to keep this channel clear. Just stay alert for when the mark shows up. If you have to sing, then sing on a different channel," Phil paused for a moment then voiced a vulnerable almost-whispered, "Please."

"Sir, yes, sir," Clint snapped at once, changed the channel on his comm unit and the air was blissfully quiet. For about 10 seconds. Then the others each threw in their two-cents worth with good-natured mocking. Clint heard them but didn't respond. If he could break the tension of a tedious mission by bringing their ire on himself he was willing to shoulder all that angst. What he worried about was that Phil was mad at him. Really mad. He had never sounded like that before. In another minute everyone settled down, back to the boring part, waiting. 

There was nothing around them but forest. Their five SUVs and the support van were well hidden. Half the crew slept while the others kept watch and then traded off so they could stay fresh. All except for Barton and Coulson. The small road twisted through the forest, was an alternate logging road. There were no houses around for 100 miles. No loggers currently in the area. No one had a reason to use this road. Except for bad guys trying to hide stuff. Intel said Harold Weston was on this road every Tuesday. It was Wednesday evening. And the waiting went on…

*****

Nicholas Fury was reading a report in his office. It was nice and quiet. He liked quiet, although not too much quiet. If there was too much quiet, then people were not doing their jobs. He realized that there was a low level melody over his personal comm channel. He only used it out in the field but he monitored a lot of channels even when they weren't being used. Just in case. He turned up the sound. It was someone humming. He went back to his reading. The humming continued. Then someone started singing some obnoxious bouncy, bubblegum pop thing:

When you wake up in the morning  
And you're hypnotized  
You are under the spell  
Of my Greeny Blue Eyes.

You love all of me  
But you never realize  
Just how much you adore  
My Greeny Blue Eyes.

When I look at you  
You're always calm and cool  
Sometimes you're so distant  
That I feel like a fool

But then you take my hand  
And tell me I'm your Boo  
And my Greeny Blue Eyes  
Are so in love with you.

Fury snorted recognizing the voice and pulled the comm unit closer.

"Agent Barton, what is that muthafuckin noise on my personal comm channel?"

"Director Fury, sir, didn't know this channel had your name on it. Just trying to stay awake and kill bad guys."

"What is that song?" Fury asked.

"Earworm, sir. It won't leave me alone."

"Greeny Blue Eyes? Where did that come from?"

"Stupid silliness, sir. It's a fantasy. Out of my league. Someone once told me they liked my Greeny Blue Eyes. I was in the hospital on the good meds. I think they thought I wouldn't remember. But I never forgot. It's been a long mission and I might be getting a bit delirious so my mind just went off on its own. Made up a silly song. S'Keepin me awake. Sorry to bother you, sir."

"So did you ever ask that person for a date?" Fury asked.

"No way, sir. He's my friend and I'm not gonna rock that boat. He doesn't swing that way...I don't think…Don't actually know…Not even gonna ask." Clint said, then rushed on, "Gotta run, the mark's car just tripped our outer monitor." The line went dead. Fury smiled and busied himself with an email.

*****

Barton's voice came back on the mission comm, "Sir, the mark's car just tripped the K-3 monitor."

Phil straightened up in his seat in the back of the support van, "Okay people, you all know what to do. Let's double check the identity. Barton, take the shot when you have it." The double click on the comm from Barton was all the confirmation Phil needed. A lot of missions were like this, waiting, waiting, felt like a hundred years of waiting, then 15 minutes of excitement.

"Hey Boss, there's a change of plans. It's not a car, it's a small truck. Don't know what's in the truck but the way he's driving, it's definitely fully loaded. And yeah, it's definitely Harold Weston. This is probably why he's out of his usual time zone."

"I see it now. Be careful with the truck, there could be explosives in the back. You can't hit the cab from the front, you'll have to hit it from the side. This guy's into anything he can get his hands on. It's why he's been on the kill list for the last two years. He's not getting away this time. This will be a bonus for us no matter what it is."

"Roger that," Clint replied.

"Oh, and the glass might be bullet proof," Phil advised, "His car would have been."

"I've got something sweet for that," Clint said with a smirk in his voice.

Sure enough, when the truck came even with Clint's tree, a bullet hole appeared in the side window. The man inside the truck was not nearly as bullet proof as the window. The hole in his head was larger and quite lethal. The truck slowed way down but was still in gear and kept coasting along. An agent jumped on the running board, got the door unlocked and pushed the driver over and got the truck stopped and turned off.

"Nice shooting, Barton and good job, Agent Hastings," Phil offered, "Now let's see what we've got." When they opened the back, it was filled with crates. They lifted one out and pried off the top to find Chitauri weapons inside. Phil directed them to unload the rest of the truck and he consulted a map for a second.

"Okay, about five miles down the road is a nice cliff drop off. We can arrange an accident and let the authorities have the rest."  
Phil directed the cleanup. They popped the tops off of all the crates so there wouldn't be any dangerous surprises. More alien weapons, some military weapons, and two crates were full of money. They put the lids back on.

A few crates were loaded into each of the 5 SUVs and they picked up all their outer monitors. A few explosives were put into the empty truck ensuring that its 'accident' would destroy all evidence of their handiwork. It made a very satisfying boom when it hit the bottom of the canyon that could be heard more than five miles away.

Phil went back to the van to pack up the equipment for traveling but frowned when he saw the red priority email on his laptop. Opening it, he saw the instructions to listen with headphones. His eyes opened wide when he saw Fury smirking at him as he played the conversation he had with Barton. And that silly song. When the clip was over, Fury gave instructions to call him as soon as the mission was complete. With butterflies exploding in his stomach, he dialed the number.

"Sitrep," said Fury as he answered the phone.

"And hello to you too, Director Fury," Phil responded mildly. "The mission is a success. Instead of a car, Harold Weston, who is dead now, by the way, was driving a truck full of crates. We have Chitauri weapons, military weapons and two crates of money. Don't know if it's real or counterfeit. We'll check the rest back at HQ. I don't want this stuff out in the wild for long. We arranged an accident for the original truck. It went boom very nicely."

"Well done. Anything else?" Fury asked.

"I'll work on the reports in the plane on the way back, sir." Phil said.

"You are a stubborn man, Cheese. Go get your Boo and bring the team home." Fury hung up before Phil could respond. Phil quickly locked up the equipment for travel back to the airport and went out to the tree across the road.

"Barton, are you still up there? Phil said over his comm. He noticed three bottles of water laying at the foot of the tree.

Clint laughed from 10 feet over Phil's head. "I'm on my way down. Had to pack up the nest. Can't leave any evidence behind."

"When did you drop your water and why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't want to bother you, sir, you were already mad at me." Barton's words slurred a bit and he moved slower than usual.

"When was the last time you had water, Clint?" Phil asked.

"I don't know, sir. It was at hour nineteen. I don't know what hour it is now."

"Medic!" Phil shouted.

Agent Morton ran towards them with a jump bag. Clint was just reaching the last branch with his equipment bags. Phil reached up to take them from him, waving at another agent to load them into the van. Then helped Clint off the last branch and sat him on the ground leaning him against the trunk of the tree and knelt beside him. Agent Morton knelt on Clint's other side.

"He's dehydrated. Get an IV going in him. He dropped three bottles of water so he's way behind," Phil instructed. Agent Morton opened her medical jump bag and pulled out a bag of saline and handed it to Phil. With brisk efficient moves she had the tubing attached and swiped Clint's skin with a sterile wipe. Clint tried to pull away from her. Phil laid down the bag of saline, picked up Clint's other hand and threaded their fingers together. He raised their joined hands and gently kissed the back of Clint's hand. Clint's eyes got big. Phil's other hand kept Clint's face tilted toward him and he whispered,

"Come on Boo. Let's get you fixed up so we can go home." 

Clint didn't even feel Agent Morton push the needle in and tape it to his skin or notice when she picked up the saline bag, holding it high. His eyes stayed on the miracle unrolling on Phil's face. 

Phil's face smiling.

Phil's face smiling at him.

Phil's face smiling at him and his adorable Greeny Blue Eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is possum fluff. I screamed at it a couple of times and it pretended to be dead.  
> But it kept coming back. Silly stuff just wouldn't leave me alone. Sorry, not sorry.


End file.
